


clear the stone of leaves

by somanyopentabs



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Dancing, Get Together, M/M, Nightmares, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:32:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyopentabs/pseuds/somanyopentabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They all have things they need to deal with.  There are no easy answers, but that doesn't mean they can't turn to one another, and still save the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	clear the stone of leaves

“I won’t leave you,” Bruce says, and the sky is bright with stars when he transforms into the Hulk and stops the asteroid from hitting the earth.

Instead of a crater there is a cloud of dust as the rock fragments blur the air.

He isn’t supposed to even be in town, but they called him in—the asteroid would have taken out a few buildings, and even though they cleared the area as best as they could, the possibility of casualties had been too great not to bring the Avengers together again.

*

“Leave me alone,” Tony pleads, to the dark shadows in his dreams.

Tony knows the taste of his own blood, bitter tang and running hot, because Tony is a _survivor_ , because Tony fought his way out from under near certain death and turmoil only to fly back into the fray, time and time again. Tony is not unfamiliar with pain, his oldest and truest partner, his steadfast companion opposing his more ephemeral devotees—pleasure, patience, trust. All so quick to let him down, while pain rises up to take the challenge well in hand, never a disappointment. 

Tony is a knife edge, sharp and sure and dangerous to let slip. Tony is a shattered mirror, a thousand broken pieces underfoot. Tony is past and present and future, because he wasn’t a fighter, he wasn’t _anything_ , but now he’s here, and he’s fought, and he’s going to keep fighting, and he’s going to keep winning, and the blood welling up from a split lip means _nothing_ to him.

But in his strength he is also vulnerable, and the dreams plague him.

*

“You don’t have to leave again,” Clint points out as Bruce packs a suitcase.

“Did Tony send you?” Bruce asks. He frowns at the pile of clothes that is keeping the case from shutting completely.

“No, this is all me.” Clint kisses him and pushes him down on the bed, and when Bruce rolls them over to climb on top, the case falls to the floor. Clint’s shirt is ripped away from his chest by Bruce’s eager hands, and Clint moans, soft and pretty, when Bruce laps his tongue across his nipples.

Clint has his mouth on Bruce’s shoulder as they push down their pants and rut together. 

“This means you’ll stay, right?” Clint asks desperately into Bruce’s flushed skin. “You wouldn’t do this and then say goodbye, that’s not you.”

*

“Do you want to be left alone?” 

Steve feels like he’s always on the edge of overstepping his bounds around Tony, especially after they’ve come back from a mission. The asteroid had been mostly cleared up by the Hulk, but the rest of the Avengers had helped with clean up and making sure that the area was secure.

Tony nearly always goes to his lab afterward, if he doesn’t have to visit medical—and sometimes even if he should be stopping by medical first, that’s where Steve finds him.

“You’re giving me a choice?”

“You always—there’s always a choice. I’m not just going to barge in where I’m not wanted. This is your space,” Steve says, pauses, “and if you don’t want me here...”

Tony mumbles something about overprotective team leaders that Steve doesn’t quite catch.

*

Bruce knows he should leave. _That boy is a nightmare_ , they had said about him, and meant it. His father and his teachers and his classmates, all of them. Years and years ago before he was a monster, he was a nightmare, dark and moody and sharp as a tack. 

The two time periods in his life, before the monster, and after; the lines blurred.

All that time, since his earliest memories, there was that monster inside him, growing inside slow and taking hold—

He never could have shaken it. There was anger in the boundary lines of his body, where he’d been pushed, bruised, hit, shoved, unloved. There was anger in his veins seeping into his blood. And the monster knew, and grew, and was dormant while it waited.

The monster’s desire was to push back. The monster wanted out.

Bruce wanted to push down. He wanted to keep it all in.

Safe. He wanted to be safe.

Safe wasn’t waking up in rubble, or finding he’d crashed through a forest; safe wasn’t fallen trees or broken buildings or scared people running from him. Safe wasn’t taking an asteroid apart with huge green fists.

Safe wasn’t Tony Stark convincing him to come back to his tower, and safe wasn’t Bruce accepting, mostly because he was wearing Tony’s clothes and had nowhere else to go.

And safe isn’t letting Clint convince him to stay at Stark Tower now. Clint with his wide blue eyes and guarded looks; his soft kisses and mumbled confessions at three in the morning, his lips pressed against Bruce’s ribs.

*

“Coulson’s still on medical leave,” Natasha informs them all at the breakfast table.

They all want him back sooner rather than later.

Tony steals Steve’s toast and doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Clint slumps low in his seat and pokes disdainfully at his eggs.

*

Outside it’s autumn; leaves fall to the ground on the New York City sidewalks.

Steve is bundled up and looking smart in his leather jacket and a warm scarf. He looks handsome and lonely as he walks out the front door of the building.

“Fuck,” Tony says, the sound of his voice echoing around his rooms like something disconnected, distant and broken.

*

“Told you I wouldn’t leave you,” Tony gasps, lifting Steve’s unconscious body in his arms.

The asteroid had been a test. The group of aliens that followed after were much less easily defeated.

“Come on, Steve. Wake up. Wake up and tell me what a pain in the ass I am, come on.”

“...Tony?”

“Yeah, it’s me, buddy, I gotcha. Come on, up and at ‘em.”

“Round two?”

“Yeah, Cap. Round two.”

*

“You left your home world to come help us?” Natasha asks, after everything. She is sitting on a desk inside the helicarrier. Her arm is in a sling, but otherwise she’s no worse for wear.

Thor nods. “Yes.”

“I guess you think we should be grateful.”

Thor, somehow, looks ashamed. “When I came here before, I--.”

Natasha waits, interested.

“What I mean to say is, your battles became my battles a while ago. Exactly when, I cannot say. But now your fights are my fights, and your team my team.”

“This wasn’t always my fight, either.”

“Ah,” Thor says, looking relieved. “Then you understand.”

*

“If you leave I want you to tell me,” Clint says, hugging Bruce from behind so he can’t see his face. “So then I can be prepared.”

“You should be resting.” The post-asteroid alien attack hadn’t been easy for Clint; he’d been told to stay off his leg because of a wound caused by a stray blast.

“I’ll rest if you come to bed with me.”

*

“Please don’t tell me to leave. I want to talk to you,” Steve says, plaintive.

“All right. Go on, shoot.”

“I think you saved my life, Tony.”

“Yeah, probably you’re thinking of some other guy,” Tony waves him off.

“See, I knew you’d do this. I knew you’d say it was no big deal or something.”

“What do you _want_ me to say?”

“...Nothing.” Steve shakes his head. “Nothing at all.”

*

A gust of wind blows fall leaves against the side of the building, and Clint catches Bruce’s hand in his. Clint is finally allowed back on his feet as much as he likes, cleared by the SHIELD doctors as well as by Bruce himself.

“This is nice,” Clint says as they brush shoulders. “Taking a walk with you. It’s like we’re just two normal guys.”

Bruce hums, neither confirming nor denying. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

“Sure, why not?”

*

“I have two left feet,” Steve admits at the charity ball.

“You’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Natasha holds out her hand, and Steve accepts.

Clint walks over to Tony and hands him a glass of punch. “Do you think I should ask Bruce to dance?”

“If you want an exercise in futility, go ahead. I’m sure he really wants to be the center of attention,” Tony replies, with more bitterness than is probably necessary.

“Yeah, you’re right. He’s hiding in some alcove or something anyway.”

“Can’t always get what you want,” Tony says as Clint walks away to find his boyfriend. Tony’s eyes search out the Captain on the dance floor, looking nearly graceful in Natasha’s skilled hands.

*

“I’m glad we left the party early,” Bruce says when they get back to the tower.

“Yeah, I could see you weren’t having a good time, so.”

“Do you mind if I get some work done?”

“Sure, yeah. Knock yourself out,” Clint says, even as disappointment settles unhappily behind his eyes.

“You’re upset with me, aren’t you?” Bruce asks, taking Clint’s hands in his. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s everyone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you didn’t feel so uncomfortable...I would have asked you. To dance, you know.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were a fan.”

Clint smiles, leaning into Bruce’s touch. “I grew up in the circus—light on my feet, you know? And I don’t mind being the center of attention.”

“You _enjoy_ dancing,” Bruce says thoughtfully.

“...Yeah. I guess that’s pretty dumb, huh?”

“No. No, I didn’t say that. In fact,” Bruce pauses to address the AI, “Jarvis, could you play something, please?”

The music that surrounds them is slow and soft, and it feels perfectly natural for Bruce to put his arms around Clint and set them both swaying to the sound.

“How do you do it?” Clint whispers against Bruce’s ear.

“How do I do what?”

“You know, make me feel like you love, uh...love making me feel good.”

*

Unrequited feelings leave a lot to be desired. Ask anyone. Better yet, ask Tony Stark.

“Did you know that Natasha used to be a ballerina?” Steve mentions. He's spending time in Tony's lab again, for whatever reason Tony can't fathom.

“Uh huh. Pass me that wrench.”

Tony doesn’t even need the wrench, he just wants to shut Steve up and maybe feel their fingers brush together. It’s more than a little pathetic.

*

“For the last time,” Bruce says, pounding into Clint, who’s spread out on the bed underneath him, his legs wrapped around Bruce’s waist, “I. Am not. Leaving. You.”

“Okay,” Clint says between stuttered breaths. “Okay. Kiss me, Bruce. Kiss me.”

Bruce kisses him just as hard as he’s fucking him, nearly bending Clint in half as their lips meet.

*

“Turn left here,” Tony says from the passenger seat of his car. Emphasis on the _his_ , as in, his property. That he is ever-so-graciously allowing Steve to operate. “Why did we agree that you could drive, again?”

“Because I won the coin toss,” Steve reminds him.

“And I still say you cheated.”

“I don’t cheat. What are we going to see, Tony?”

“It’s a surprise. Turn right at the light.”

Eventually Tony tells him to park the car, and Tony keeps his nervousness to himself as he shows Steve one of the places he used to visit when he was a boy.

“I never pictured you for visiting the country,” Steve remarks, not unkindly.

“Yeah, I was mostly an indoors kid,” Tony admits. “But I liked it here. It was quiet. My, uh—Maria liked it here.”

“Tony,” Steve says. He doesn’t say anything else, but Tony gets wrapped up in big arms and he doesn’t hate it. He doesn’t pull away.

*

“My turn,” Steve says, when they leave on a daytrip to Steve’s old neighborhood.

“You’re not getting a hug from me,” Tony says. But he plants a kiss on Steve’s mouth just to see what he’ll do—and okay, also because he wants to.

“I was hoping you’d kiss me first,” Steve says when they break apart. “I’m not so good with initiating that sort of thing.”

*

Later, Tony leaves his shower door open in invitation.

“Ready for round two?” Steve asks as he slips in behind him and kisses the back of Tony’s ear.

“See, you’re getting better at initiating already,” Tony answers, turning his head to kiss him full on the mouth.

Tony presses his forehead against the shower wall as Steve spreads his legs apart. He’s still nice and slick between his cheeks from earlier, and when Steve mouths the back of his neck and grabs his hips, Tony pushes back to meet Steve’s hard, quick thrust, and takes him all in. It hurts a little, with the stretch, but it’s a good hurt, and Tony wants it, loves it even.

“Fuck me, Steve. Fuck me in two. Take me apart.”

Steve does, fucks him ‘til he’s shaking and coming against the shower wall.

*

“Looks like we’ve got some competition, babe,” Clint says with a wink. “Better catch up before we’re left in the dust.” 

Tony might be many things, but subtle is not one of them. The whole team knows that he and Steve are sleeping together now.

“It’s not a competition,” Bruce argues, but that night he fucks him slow and hard enough to make him scream anyway.

*

“Just leave it to me,” Clint says, with confidence the following week.

Coulson’s ‘welcome back’ cake is ready. The balloons are all blown up. The banner is hung. Most importantly, Fury has a SWAT team at hand to keep Coulson safe at the tower, should the need arise. Okay, so it’s a little bit of overkill, but no one’s arguing with Fury.

“This is gonna be one hell of a party.”


End file.
